


The Holmes family

by JackH777



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Dad Sherlock, Drug Use, Father-Daughter Relationship, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:36:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3610344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackH777/pseuds/JackH777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Sherlock and Irene have a daughter. Irene is murdered and Sherlock spirals out of control. He would have taken young Watts down with him had Mycroft not stepped in. Watts and Sherlock have a broken relationship that he wishes to repair as she will be spending the summer back at Baker St. Watts thinks it will be the worst summer ever. If only she knew what she was being thrown into when her fathers old foe steps into the picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Holmes family

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first story and I just want to say I don't own Sherlock Holmes or any of the characters. This is just an idea I had and wanted to share with others. Sorry about any errors you may see. Please leave comments so I can know what I did right and wrong. I'm not sure how often I can post, because of school and sports, but if people like it I will do my best to work fast. Thank you.

I had a feeling this summer was going to suck. I just didn't know how bad it would suck. I hated spending time at my father's. Too many bad memories from when I was younger. I much proffered staying in the safety of my Uncle Mycroft's house. Seeing as he was very important to the British government he thought it best for me to stay in our flat at all times possible. I didn't mind as much as a normal teenage girl should have, but I was no normal teenage girl. How can the only daughter of Sherlock Holmes be anything but abnormal? 

"Watson Irene Holmes you had better be down here and dressed in the next 10 minutes, or I will come up there. Mycroft called.

I mulled the threat over for a moment before deciding that I should just do as he said. The last time he had to come wake me I found myself covered in a bucket of blood and been told to decipher how old it was before I could shower. I was lucky that was a lesson I had already learned, or I would have been covered for hours. However blood does take some time to wash out of your hair and I didn't want to deal with that today. It was going to be bad enough.

Reluctantly I pulled myself from the safety of my bed and made my way over to the closet. Mycroft had already had my clothes packed to go to my fathers, so that didn't leave me many options. I just decided on some basic jeans (with holes just to spite Mycroft) and one of my favorite uni teams football jersey. I was pulling on an old pair of trainers as I hobbled down the steps from my floor of the flat. Up there was my room, my study, (where I met with my tutors) the library, and my lab/training room. Mycroft always said it was important for my to learn all of the things my father should have been teaching me. Even though we didn't talk about him much I knew Mycroft missed his little brother. They used to be very close, but after my mother's death Sherlock pulled himself back into old habits. 

We had been living in the country side as a family. Sherlock had stopped all of his crazy adventures with Uncle John and moved to be with my mother. They had me and everything was good. Sherlock had become a writer focusing more on books and less on his stupid blog. My mother's name was Irene Adler and she had lived a very adventuress life herself. Mycroft had tried to hid most of it from me, but I was decent in my detective skills. We lived quiet lives that I don't remember, because my mother was killed when I was only two years old. She had taken me into a nearby village to do some shopping. No one knows exactly what happened, but I had been in my stroller when someone had shot her right in the heart. The DI had no idea why I was left unharmed, but I was.

After that happened Sherlock moved us back to Baker St. and picked up with his life as it had been. He grabbed Uncle John, who was still living there and regained his life as the consulting detective. That didn't leave much time for me, but I was too little to car. Everyone has told me that I grew up too early. No five year old should be staying up till 1a.m. to wait for two grown men to get home so she can treat their wounds. Living with Sherlock had not been easy. He did many things under the use of drugs that could have been considered child abuse, but to him it was just preparing me. I still have plenty of scars, but the worse one is from where he stabbed me in the back in a particularly hard place to reach. It was my job to get it out and treat the wound. A heavy task for a six year old, but I managed for the most part. Apparently I had not cleaned the wound well enough and it got infected. Uncle John had not noticed Sherlock's crazy teachings until he came home that night and found me lying face down with blood and puss pouring out of the knife wound on my back. 

That was the last night I spent at Baker St. without other adult supervision. Mycroft had collected my from the hospital and moved my into his flat. Sherlock had protested, but by that point he was dependent on so many drugs he didn't know what was going on. It took years for him to earn enough approval for Mycroft to let him talk to me. After that we had started going over there for some holidays and we even stayed over a few times, but this summer was different. For the first time I was going to be staying their with only Sherlock and John (and Mrs. Hudson who lived downstairs.) I was worried, but I trusted Mycroft's judgment and I knew Sherlock wanted this to work. 

"Sleep well?" Mycroft asked knowing the answer. 

I had not slept we'll in years. He had once had a doctor proscribe me something, but after watching my father for years I refused to take it. I would be up for most of the night and grab a few hours after the sun came up. Most nights she didn't even bother with sleep which was something Mycrfot told her Sherlock was able to do.

"I slept fine Uncle." I replied grabbing some toast and jam and sitting down.

He gave me the look that told me he knew I was lying, but he let it go. He knew I was worried and didn't want to make it worse. 

"So after breakfast we shall head over to your father's." He informed her in a matter of fact way, so she didn't dignify it with a response. 

They ate breakfast at a rather leisurely pace. Once they we were done they went up and gathered all of my cases to load into the car. Normally the driver would have done that, but I didn't trust our driver today. Mycroft would have asked why, but he very we'll knew. The first time I had met the man I was able to deduce that he had three children and a rather bad addiction to the horse races. I also discovered that he had a mistress, so in my mind he was lower than dirt. How could someone cheat on someone they love? Mycroft knew my displeased with him, because it was readable on my face after only talking to him for 20 seconds. It was unfortunately the curse thrown upon me by my so called parents. 

We climbed into the back of the car and set off for Baker St. I was quiet for most of the ride over and Mycroft was working on his phone, so I took my time to stare out the widows. I hated having to be out and about, because I always got this crazy rush of information. It was like each person had hundreds of little clues about themselves floating all around them. I frankly found it annoying. When I decided it was too much I shoved my earbuds in my ears and closed my eyes. It was my own little way to drown out the world. 

I was slightly startled when I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back into reality, but my brain told me it was Mycroft and I was safe. 

"Watts were here." He said trying to stay calm. 

I knew he was worried, but he was trying very hard not to let it show. I grabbed my cases out of the boot and make the small journey to the front door of Baker St. Mycroft could feel the tension, so he decided to be the one to knock. Thank god I had Mycroft, or I don't know what would have become of me. I would probably be dead by now, but I found myself wishing for death the moment I saw Sherlock open the door.

\-------------------------

We stood there for a few moments starring at each other before Mrs. Hudson pushed her way past Sherlock to pull me into a hug. For being such a small women she sure was strong. 

"Watson darling. It is so good to have you home again. Now get in here before you catch cold." She ordered. 

I thought about pointing out that it was summer, but I knew never to mess with Mrs. H. She would always say what she wanted and no one would ever tell her otherwise. She pulled me into the house and right past Sherlock who was speechless. It had been a long time since we had last seen each other and I had changed very much in that time. It must be hard for him to see his daughter like she was a new person every time we saw each other. As a teenager my interests were always changing and so was my appearance. 

"John she's here!" Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs. It took only a few moments for John to come bouncing down the stairs. 

He looked just the same as always. In fact they all did except for Sherlock who had finally put on some weight now that he quite the drugs and John was making him eat. He was by no means large, but he was not just a pile of bones anymore. John and I hugged before he shook one of Mycroft's hands. 

"Mycroft good to see you." He said with a smile. 

"As you John. Watts maybe you want to take your bags up to your room while the grown ups have a chat?" Mycroft asked.

I nodded and grabbed my cases taking them up the two flights of stairs to my old bedroom. John's was just down the hall while Sherlock had the one on the first floor. I could hear the adult settling into position at the kitchen table right below me. The floor was thick enough that I wouldn't be able to hear their voices, but I had some tricks up my sleeve. 

I made my way into the small closet and shut the door behind me. I then pealed back the carpet and exposed and old vent that did nothing other than give me perfect view of the kitchen. I figured Sherlock knew about it, but he probably thought I didn't know it was there, so I was covered. 

The four adults who cared most about me in the world we seated around the small table. Everyone had eyes on Mycroft who had his eyes targeted on Sherlock. This was going to be interesting. 

"I know that this summer is an important step for everyone involved, but I want to make sure there are some clear ground rules." Mycroft said shifting his gaze from his little brother.

"You don't need to worry Mike." John said with a smile. "We have had everything under control here for a while and I truly believe that this is going to be great." 

Mycroft nodded slowly, but his gaze shifted back to Sherlock who now was starting to seem a little agitated. 

"What seems to be wrong, Brother mine?" Mycroft said with an expressionless face. 

"I simply don't see the point in needing to call this little meeting. You know well enough that everything on my end has been taken care of other wise you wouldn't be here." Sherlock spat.

"Watts being here right now is not my concern." Mycroft replied. "My concern is when I walk out that door. I fear what might happen if I leave my girl in your care."

I knew in that moment that Mycroft had just made a mistake. When introducing me to his friends he always called me his girl. He liked that, because it wasn't saying he was my father, but it told others he was the closes thing to it and they needed to respect that. Sherlock was not happy about the little slip.

"Your girl?" He copied. "You know dam well that she is my daughter Mycroft. I really don't see what any of this has to do with you other than the fact that you stole her from her home and have kept her away from her family." 

Mycroft only grinned at that and I knew why.

"Family Sherlock is about more than blood. You should know that because of the two other people sitting here." Mycroft started. "You may think yourself her father, but for now that is all you actually are. You are just a title that the world has given you. She does not think of you as an actual dad. That is evident by the fact that she simply refuses to call you dad. She has come close a couple of times over the years, but there is always a set back and you go right back to being "Sherlock" in our conversations."

That was a blow to Sherlock's self esteem, but it was very true. I had never really thought of Sherlock in the normal sense of a father. He was simply the man who haunted my dreams and plagued my nightmares. 

"Boys why don't we all just calm down and remember what this summer is about." John said in his reassuring voice. "This summer is about Watts and we need to keep it that way. Now Sherlock has many father daughter events planed and if it will appease you I will be at all of them. I did notice that she had a uni jersey on, maybe we could all go catch a game?" 

Good old Uncle John. Always the voice of reason. I was always secretly glad my parents named me after him, even if my name was not something conventional it was nice to know it came from someone who everyone liked. 

"We'll put John. You are correct this is about Watts, but do understand me on this. If at any point this summer I decide that this is not going well for her I will end it and she will be back home no questions asked." Mycroft declared. 

Everyone seemed to understand and that was enough for me. I pulled myself up recovering the vent and headed downstairs right into the kitchen. The conversation ended when I walked in and everyone tried their best to put on a happy face. I found it funny, but I kept as if she had no idea what they had just been discussing. 

After about an hour of casual conversation Mycroft decided it was time to go. He had other business to attend to and he knew if he didn't leave soon he would only want to stay or take Watts with home when he left. We had a brief goodbye. It was not the Holmes way to drag things like that out. Once he left I went back up to unpack my suit case. Sherlock had treys to make conversation, but it had gone nowhere. I could already tell this was going to be a long summer.


End file.
